


Ķaléb

by RAAMIsABeast



Series: Short Story Collection [18]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe - Angels & Demons, Angel/Demon Hybrids, Angels, Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-14
Updated: 2018-10-14
Packaged: 2019-08-02 03:56:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16297700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RAAMIsABeast/pseuds/RAAMIsABeast
Summary: Silence, the human watching as she caught her breath, chest heaving."You've fallen far, for an Angel."But the human rose and slid the door open to let a small boy run into the room and into his mother's arms. Against the pull of the wires, she wrapped her wings around her son, feeling him shake with fear. But he was unharmed.





	Ķaléb

Reduced to waiting again, she cried out for her son, wishing the humans would let her see him. Tied as she was, with barbed wire around her neck and twisted into her wings, she was helpless to stop whatever they did. In her system, some drug swirled and blurred her eyesight, dimmed her hearing.

She was utterly lost, despondent in her isolation.

"Ķaléb! Ķaléb!"

The woman wailed, hearing only the echos of her desperation bounce back, as if sneering at her powerlessness.

She wasn't the strong one. She never had been.

But her brother was, her brother was the strong one between them, picked out for his stamina and learning how to fight. She missed her brother. She missed her son, her home. Her world.

"Alright, Feathers, you want your son tonight?"

When had the leader come in? She didn't know, hadn't even sensed him.

"Yes! I wa-"

He kicked her in the stomach, cutting off her plea with a pained cry.

"I didn't want a story, Angel. You'll get your son back. First, who's the father?"

This gave her pause. Why would they want to know the father? Unless... unless they had recognised the tint in her son's wing feathers to be definately non-Angelic in origin.

"I don't know."

"Stop lying or I start plucking his wings, one feather at a time."

"No!"

"Then tell me who, or _what_ the father is."

"He's a..."

The woman trailed off, feeling shame crawl up her back, knowing just how far she had fallen when she had laid with the father of her son. Her husband may have adopted him, no matter his genetics, but many others wouldn't have been so forgiving.

She jumped when a cattle prod zapped to life a few inches from her eyes.

"What is he?"

"A..."

Zap. She screamed.

"He's a Demon!"

Silence, the human watching as she caught her breath, chest heaving.

"You've fallen far, for an Angel."

But the human rose and slid the door open to let a small boy run into the room and into his mother's arms. Against the pull of the wires, she wrapped her wings around her son, feeling him shake with fear. But he was unharmed.

****

Years passed by, the Angel watching her son grow up, grow sick as his own genetics slowly killed him. Angel-Demon hybrids never made it to adulthood naturally. Ķaléb would sleep most days now, curled up beside his mother, shivering in agony and sometimes even waking up screaming a silent scream.

Born mute, aged mute, will die mute. By now his wings had deepened from their light red to a deep and handsome crimson, matching the colour of his left eye. His right matched his mother's yellow-gold pair.

Today it was oddly silent. A few hours ago, an alarm had droned on shrilly, keeping her son awake and putting them both on edge. But now, there was nothing. The young male had slipped back into his uneasy rest, breathing ragged. Any day now, he could slip away from life. And it scared her.

Bangs echoed and a voice she hadn't heard in years came from the other side of the door.

"L'arl? L'arl, are you in here?"

Her husband!

"Yes! Yes! I am!"

She winced at the sound of her own voice, croaky with disuse. But she was more concerned about her son. She wanted him to live, to see the world. And there was only one way to do so.

"And Ķaléb?"

They were getting through the door. Now or never, she knew.

"In need of my essence."

"What? L'arl, don't. Wait!"

But she had already decided. Had mulled it over for over a year. And now it was time.

She spoke words and felt her natural magic flow from her to Ķaléb, connecting them for a few seconds, enough for her to know he was alive, that her essence was combating his illness and reinvigorating him. At least his genetics will not kill him in the future.

****

The door flew upon to reveal the lifeless body of L'arl and the barely conscious son she had given her essence too. Even though Ķaléb was not his child by blood, the husband could do little to stop himself from gathering his son in his arms and holding him close.

His mother had given the boy her essence, and the husband would rather damn himself to the pits of Hell than leave the little male in the dirt.


End file.
